The Grand Sneer
by TheMidgetBee
Summary: In order to escape the attention of Lord Snapcase, Havelock Vetinari has been forced to go on the Grand Sneer with...oh gods...Downey and friends. And if that wasn't enough to deal with, he's got to contend with the vampires and werewolves of Uberwald too
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Oh dear gods, I'm nervous about posting this. I've spent over a month working on this story and I hope it's good. I _think _it is.

Lady Margolotta von Uberwald and Lord Havelock Vetinari, one of the most interesting canon pairings (at least I think so) on the Discworld and one of the few we know hardly anything about. I got bored of waiting for Pterry to write something about it, so I made something up myself, and here it is.

One chapter will be posted every week (and yes I know the chapters are short), specifically on a Friday 'cause it's easier for me. Please read and review, all feedback is welcome on this, but flames will be looked at with nothing but disdain. Did I mention I'm nervous about this one?

Disclaimer: Although I wished really hard, I didn't turn into Terry Pratchett; therefore none of these characters belong to me, do they?

* * *

"I think we should tell them."

Pietr Scholtzy, proud proprietor of the Horse and Cabbage Inn gave his wife an inquiring look. "Tell them what, Anna?"

"About…her, Pietr," said Anna. "And about the Baron, too."

"How many times do I have to tell you, woman? If either of _them_ found out we were warning travellers to avoid Bonk then we'd both end up as their next meal," said her husband. "Besides, you didn't tell those two from Quirm last week."

Anna sniffed. "That was different, they didn't pay their bill." She leaned out into the doorway slightly so she could see into the main room of the inn and sighed. "They're so young, little more than children…"

"I heard one of those 'children' say he was a trained Assassin."

"Which one?"

"The loud one with brown hair."

"Really? I would've thought it'd be the thin one."

Pietr grinned. "Him? I couldn't see him putting down that book long enough to kill someone. Besides, why do you care so much about a group of tourists from Ankh-Morpork? You know all they've done since they came here is insult us and the other guests." He shook his head and frowned. "Grand Sneer, indeed…"

"They're just misguided, Pietr. Honestly, you always take it so personally." She took a deep breath and looked at him, a resolute expression on her face. "No, we _have_ to tell them. Off you go."

"Me?" Pietr asked. "Why me?"

"Because every time I try to talk to them, they just smile blankly at me and order more drinks. I'm sure they think I'm just a barmaid or something." She gave her husband a gentle push in the direction of the door. "Go on, I'll be watching."

* * *

Havelock Vetinari turned the page on his book and tried in vain to block out the mindless chatter of his companions. For what felt like the fiftieth time that day, he silently cursed the circumstances that had led to him being lumbered with a group like this; but unfortunately, as much as he hated this, he had to admit it was necessary. In the months following Lord Winder's 'assassination' and the murder of John Keel, Lord Snapcase, the new Patrician, had been striking out with increased ferocity at anyone who he thought could pose a threat; Doctor Follett and several other leading figures in the conspiracy to overthrow Winder had already met with nasty 'accidents' or had simply disappeared. Thank goodness his aunt had managed to escape, thought Havelock, she was currently laying low in Genua, but even that wouldn't be safe for long. 

But while she was safe, at least for now, he wasn't. The assassination of Winder, while an open commission, had not been officially completed by a Guild member and therein lay the problem. The infiltration of the Palace, Snapcase had reasoned, had happened so professionally that only an Assassin could have done it, and as the only Guild member given the commission that night had not even reached the Palace roof, let alone the ballroom, then the task must've taken place unofficially. No fully-trained Assassin would have dreamed of taking on a commission unofficially, not only was it against Guild rules and would lead to an instant dismissal and inhumation, but it was dishonourable. Besides, most of them either had alibis or had provided one quickly under the ministrations of the trainee torturers.

So now the finger was being pointed at the students.

The only thing to do now was try to blend into the crowd and try not to be noticed; and in a group of loud, obnoxious young men on their Grand Sneer and away from all adult supervision for the first time, who was going to notice him? No one…or at least that's what Havelock and his aunt hoped.

So, they'd picked the most obnoxious young men they could think of; Lord Rust had been a shoo-in for chaperone as he had a way of speaking to people that was guaranteed to elicit him nothing but hatred from the locals; Downey and Ludorum from Havelock's class at school would provide the level of noise and attention-seeking needed and Cyril de Worde would provide the touch of specieism. Now all Havelock had to do is smile and try not to draw attention to himself and everyone should be so busy hating the rest of the group that they wouldn't notice the quiet young man minding his own business at the back…

A man Havelock recognised as the innkeeper approached their table. "Hello sirs, how is your food?"

Downey threw down his fork and shoved his plate away, a slight frown on his face. "As if you could call _that_ food…"

"Oh, it's not that bad, Downey," said Ludorum. "Come on, pass it here if you don't want it. Why don't you like it, anyway?"

"It's disgusting."

"I agree," said Rust. He turned to face the innkeeper. "Can't you people cook properly up here?"

Pietr's smile tensed slightly. "If there is something else I could get you gentlemen from the kitchen…?"

"Oh, don't bother, I'm sure everything else will taste just as bad," Rust said brusquely. "Why are you bothering us anyway?"

"I merely wanted to ask where your next stop will be on your tour, gentlemen," said Pietr smoothly. "I could tell you some points of interest about the town you'll be visiting next."

"I hardly think we need _your_ advice--" started Rust.

"We'll be visiting Bonk next, Mr Scholtzy," interrupted Havelock. "I've heard it's got an interesting cuckoo clock museum, do you recommend it?"

"Er…yes," replied Pietr, slightly surprised at the politeness of the question. "It's got some interesting exhibits. Do you know much about the people of Bonk, sir?"

Cyril de Worde started slightly at the man's question. "People? I thought Bonk is just another dump full of peasants like this place."

The smile on Pietr's face tensed even more. "It does have a _mostly_ human population like we do, sir, but have you heard about the other people that live there?"

"You mean the lawn-ornaments?"

"No, I'm talking about Lady Margolotta and the Baron, sir."

"You actually have nobility in this country?" asked Cyril, his lip curling slightly. "Well, at least they'll be more our sort of people." He turned to Rust, who was nodding. "I can't stand being around the lower classes for too long."

The innkeeper's face turned red slightly and his smile slipped. "They may be nobility, sir, but they're also—"

"How far back do their lines go?" asked Rust.

"What?" said Pietr, confused.

"Their titles, man. Have they been in the families long?"

"Does that really matter?" Pietr said. "Look, if they offer to let you stay the night in their castles, don't--"

"New money, I bet," Cyril interrupted. "These mountain towns never have anyone of any real breeding in them, just mindless peasants."

"Listen, don't go into the--"

"Well what else can you expect, this far from civilisation?" asked Downey glumly.

"Listen to me, I'm trying to tell you about Lady Margolotta and the Baron, they're the unde--"

"Oh, what are you blathering on about, man?" said Rust impatiently. "Why do you keep going on about this Lady Margolotta and the Baron for? Honestly, I swear you people get more stupid the further we get from the city."

The innkeeper's face went blank and he seemed to be coming to some sort of decision. He glanced over to the kitchen doorway where his wife was standing, then a huge friendly smile appeared on his face. "I just wanted to inform you about the _marvellous _hospitality of the Uberwaldian nobility, sir. Lady Margolotta and the Baron are famed for it; and they're always ready to entertain young men from Ankh-Morpork such as yourselves. I heartily recommend you pay them a visit on your way through our fair country."

"I hope _they've_ got some decent food, at least," grumbled Downey.

"Oh, I dare say they will have, sir," said Pietr, the smile getting wider by the second as he backed away from the table. "Their dining habits are _legendary_…"

* * *

"Did you tell them?" 

"No."

"Why not? I thought we agreed—"

"They insulted your cooking."

"Oh…okay then."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As night drew in the carriage shuddered its way to Bonk, seemingly hitting every pothole and bump in the road on the way.

"Gods, these roads are awful," said Downey as a particularly large pothole caused the carriage to lurch to one side alarmingly.

"You don't get roads like this in the city," Cyril said. "But we know how to build properly."

"True," said Ludorum. "What do you think, Vetinari?"

"Hmm?"

"Oh, do put that book down and actually have a conversation with us, would you? You've ignored us the entire trip."

Havelock marked his place in his book and closed it. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, I didn't mean to ignore you."

"Well you have. You asked to go on this trip with _us_, remember? We could've said no and you'd have had to go with the women."

"Probably would've felt more comfortable," muttered Downey.

"And what do you mean by that, Downey?" asked Havelock.

Downey smiled innocently. "Oh, nothing much, Dog-Both—sorry, _Vetinari_—it's just that when everyone else would go on their weekly visit to a Seamstress, I seem to remember you would go to the Guild Library and study."

"And your point is…?"

"Just that you don't seem particularly interested in girls, do you? Who was it you took to the Assassin's Ball again?"

"Sybil Ramkin," Ludorum said. "I did wonder about that, you know. I mean, I know she's loaded and all, Vetinari, but isn't she a little…" He waved his hands in the air vaguely, "…_loaded_?"

"Sybil Ramkin is a very fine young woman," said Havelock.

"Oh, I agree Sybil's a laugh and all but could you really…y'know…with _her_?"

"I heard he didn't even kiss her," said Downey. "Just took her to the dance and straight home again."

"That's because we're just friends, Downey."

"So you didn't even try anything. Gods, Vetinari, I know she's huge but she isn't _that_ unattractive."

"I've always thought Sybil Ramkin was a very attractive woman," said Rust.

Everyone turned and stared at him.

Ludorum shook himself slightly and turned back to Havelock. "So come on, be honest; are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Gay."

Havelock blinked. "I'm afraid I don't understand the question, Ludorum."

Downey smirked. "Look, Vetinari, you don't go out with girls, no ones ever seen you with a girl and you spend all your time with other men. You must be gay, admit it."

Havelock took a deep breath and stared at him. "Downey, just because I refuse to be at the mercy of my libido does not mean I don't have one; I just prefer to spend my time in the pursuit of other things. There is more to life than sex, you know."

Downey's eyes widened. "Hang on, are you saying you're still a vi--"

"Oh leave the boy alone, Downey," interrupted Rust. "Who _cares_?"

Havelock sighed and opened his book again. While it was true that he had a certain…_inexperience_ in particular areas, he was completely comfortable with the fact; after all, it wasn't as if he hadn't had the opportunity. He smiled slightly as he remembered the day at his aunt's house when Rosie Palm had cornered him and made several rather interesting offers, at a reduced rate of course. But unfortunately, while the education he'd received from his aunt in political matters had been first-rate, she'd also unwittingly taught him some valuable lessons in matters of the heart as well; ten years of watching her twist and turn powerful men just by using her feminine wiles and seeing the compliant slaves that many had been reduced to was enough to make anyone think twice about having a relationship.

"Weather's getting worse," said Cyril. "It's pouring down out there."

The carriage jumped as it hit another bump in the road.

"Gods, this is intolerable," said Downey. "I'm going to tell the driver to slow down." He opened the carriage door and leant out briefly before suddenly closing it again and sitting back down, his face white. "We're hanging off the side of a mountain."

Ludorum snorted. "You're always exaggerating, Downey. Come on, let me have a look." He leaned over Downey and opened the door himself. "Bloody hell, you're right." He leant out further and the coach lurched to the side slightly. "No wait; it's just a really narrow road. Oh wow, you can see all the way down to the river…"

The coach lurched again. "Sit down, sit down, _sit down_," shrieked Cyril, his face ashen.

Laughing, Ludorum did so and grinned at Cyril. "Don't be so nervous, de Worde, It's not like you were in any real danger."

Cyril glared in response. "Bloody Assassins, always thinking you're invincible just because you've been taught how to kill people. _I_ could've gone to the Guild, you know."

"Yes, but you faint at the sight of blood, Cyril," said Havelock, not looking up from his book. "And you're afraid of heights."

"No, I'm not! I just don't want to plunge off the side of a mountain just because that idiot thinks hanging off the side of the carriage is a good idea."

"Prove it," said Downey maliciously.

"What?"

"Prove you're not afraid of heights. Poke your head out of the door and look down…all the way down."

Cyril laughed nervously. "There's no point, honestly."

"Either do it or we'll _make_ you do it."

"Fine." Cyril opened the door slightly and poked his head out a fraction of an inch before pulling it back in. "See, I've done it now, so that's the end of tha—"

Downey and Ludorum grabbed Cyril and forced him out further. The terrified young man immediately began screaming and flailing his limbs, desperate to get back into the relative safety of his seat.

"Oh, stop being such a baby, de Worde," laughed Downey. "I thought you weren't afraid of heights."

"_Let me in_!" screamed Cyril.

One of Cyril's hands caught at Havelock's book and tore it out of his grasp and down into the ravine below. "Oh, for gods' sake, Downey, just let him get back in," snapped Havelock.

Downey looked over at him, and slightly cowed, nodded to Ludorum and they pulled Cyril back into the carriage. The young man sat back down, his eyes wide with fear. He pointed a shaking finger at Havelock accusingly. "That was your fault, you bastard," he hissed.

"Really? And how is that exactly?" asked Havelock.

"You told them I was afraid of heights!"

"And you told them that you weren't. Now because of your bravado, I've lost my book."

"Is that all you're worried about, your stupid book? I could've been killed."

"That book was a present from my aunt. So yes, in the grand scheme of things, I would consider it _infinitely_ more valuable than you are," Havelock said tetchily.

The two men glared at each other.

"It was just a joke, de Worde," said Ludorum, trying to defuse the situation. "Anyway, we've off the ravine path now, looks like we're only a couple of miles from Bonk."

The group sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as the carriage made its way along the road, the rocky scenery gave way to dense forest and the steadily worsening weather crashing and pouring around them. In the distance, a wolf howled.

Cyril jumped. "What was that?"

"It was just a wolf," Havelock said. "There's quite a few of them in these parts, I understand."

Cyril turned to Rust. "Would you kindly tell Dog-Botherer that I'm not talking to him, please?"

Downey and Ludorum gasped slightly and Havelock's eyes narrowed. The offensive nickname that Downey had thought up so long ago and had used every day for the next seven years had suddenly come into disuse about a month ago, after they had passed their final examinations. Havelock had decided to celebrate the occasion by breaking into Downey's room while he'd slept and explaining in no uncertain terms what would happen if Downey used the nickname again; obviously he'd told Ludorum about their little conversation. Havelock had opened his mouth to retort when suddenly another wolf howled, closer this time.

"Gods, that sounded like it came from behind us," said Rust.

"It did," said Havelock grimly. Unlike the others, he actually _had_ been listening to the innkeeper's warning and unfortunately had a good idea of what was following them.

Downey looked out of the window. "You're right, Vetinari. There's one following us; it's the biggest wolf I've ever seen." He paused. "No, make that two of them…no, wait…three…"

One of the wolves let out another blood-curdling howl and the men heard the driver curse. The carriage sped up, but the wolves kept pace, actually speeding up until they could be seen directly out of the carriage window.

"What are they after, the horses?" asked Ludorum, sounding worried.

Downey suddenly sat down and pulled out a dagger. "One of them just laughed at me."

"What do you mean 'laughed' at you? You must be hearing things, it's the thunder--"

"Have you ever heard thunder sound like laughing?" snapped Downey. "I'm telling you, the bloody wolf just laughed at me."

"But how—"

"They're werewolves," explained Havelock. "They're not after the horses; they're after _us_."

Ludorum's eyes widened and he stood up, rummaging in his bag for a sword.

"After us for what?" asked Rust.

"What do you think they're after us for, Rust?" growled Downey. "They want to _eat_ us, you idiot."

Cyril clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. "This is what happens when you mix with lower species," he said, a slightly hysterical note in his voice.

"Oh, shut up, Cyril. Vetinari, you got a knife or something?"

"Of course, but it won't help," replied Havelock calmly. "Only silver or fire can hurt a werewolf."

"What, you been reading up on it or something?" asked Ludorum.

"Yes, that was what the book was about."

"Great," said Ludorum as he finally found his sword and drew the blade out of its scabbard. "Well, book-man, do you actually _have_ any silver on you?"

"Unfortunately…no."

"A lot of use that was, then. So are you just going to sit there and let them eat you or what?"

"No, of course not, but I'm telling you, conventional weaponry won't help."

"Maybe not," said Downey. "But I'm going to at least try."

"Yes," agreed Rust. "We're out-numbered, out-manoeuvred but resilient to the last; it'll be a battle to remember."

Downey passed him a knife. "Good man."

One of the werewolves suddenly ran out directly in front of the horses; already driven half-mad with terror and exhausted from the chase, one of them tried to stop and jump at the same time but only succeeded in tripping over its own front legs. The horse screamed as it fell under the wheels of the carriage, tearing its harness from the carriage and pulling its partner and the driver down with it. The carriage's wheels shattered as it flipped onto its side, but the momentum carried it further down the rain-soaked road, only coming to a halt when it smashed into one of the large trees that lined the way.

Havelock clambered out of the wreckage and reached a hand down to pull Cyril out with him. The remaining werewolves had surrounded them now and the largest one was approaching them, a hungry look on his face and his teeth bared. Havelock pulled out a knife and readied himself as he saw the werewolf prepare to leap…

Suddenly blue flames shot up between the wreckage and the werewolves, and the leader stepped back suddenly. Downey and Ludorum pulled Rust out of the carriage and held him up between them as the werewolves began to snarl and foam at the mouth in anger, letting out a noise somewhere between a howl and a scream at the flames. Cyril clutched at Havelock and cowered in fear, but the flames merely strengthened in intensity. The leader cast a contemptuous look at them and snarled before turning back up the road, obviously deciding that one of the freshly-killed horses would be a far easier meal.

Havelock leant Cyril against the wreckage and stepped towards the flames, taking care to keep out of their reach, but ensuring he had a good view of the road they'd just come down. He watched as the werewolves ran back up to where the carcasses of the horses lay. Even from this distance, Havelock's Assassin-trained eyes could see the driver, who had now regained consciousness, start to move away from them slowly.

"Stay down, you fool," Havelock hissed, but unfortunately the driver decided to make a run for it. He'd barely gotten three steps when the huge wolf leapt on his back and brought him down.

"_Nonononono_--!"

Once the terrible screaming and the ripping sounds had stopped, the werewolves quickly pulled the carcasses into the forest to feast upon at their leisure, and just as suddenly as they'd appeared, the flames vanished.

"W-what the hell just happened?" asked Downey, peering into the forest. "What was that fire?"

"I don't know, but that flame thing saved us," said Ludorum.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and the Assassins spun around, weapons at the ready.

A lantern flickered on, illuminating the figure of some vaguely human-shaped. "I'm thorry if I thcared you there, gentlemen." The lantern was lifted higher, and the man attempted to smile. "But my Mithtreth--" the lightening flashed overhead, "--hath heard about your acthident and witheth to exthtend her hothpitality." The light threw unpleasant shadows around the smile as it grew wider. "Tho…will you come to the cathtle?"


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I know I said I'd only be posting chapters on a friday but this one is pretty short, even for me, so I'm posting this now. I'll still be putting chapter four up this friday as usual though.

* * *

"Tho…will you come to the cathle, gentlemen?" repeated the shadowy figure. The thunder crashed again, slightly louder this time.

"What castle?" asked Rust.

This time the lightening flashed, illuminating a large, intimidating silhouette against the night sky. "That cathle," said the figure. "I have her Ladythip'th carriage with me to take you there."

Cyril sighed in relief. "Yes, yes please. At least _someone_ in this godsforsaken country is civilised."

"Hang on, Cyril," said Havelock. He turned to the figure. "What's your mistress' name?"

"Lady Margolotta von Uberwald."

Havelock took a deep breath and turned to Cyril. "I don't think we should go up there."

"Oh come on, Vetinari, we're still miles from Bonk and those werewolf things are still out there," said Downey. "What could be so bad about this Lady Margolotta? At least she's offering us shelter for the night."

Havelock steeped closer to Downey and lowered his voice. "The innkeeper warned us--"

"The innkeeper was just another ignorant peasant, Vetinari. Besides, we're _Assassins_; even if she did decide to do something, I doubt one little woman is going to give us much trouble."

"But that's just it; I don't think she _is_ a wom--"

"Oh for gods' sake, Vetinari!" shouted Rust suddenly. "I'm cold, I'm tired, my head is killing me, I'm drenched through from all this wretched weather and here this…" he glanced at the figure, "…person is offering us shelter for the night and you want us to walk to the town just because you're too scared to go into some castle." The lightening flashed again. "I'm the chaperone on this trip so I say we go with…?"

"Igor, thur."

"…Igor here, and thank this Lady Margolotta for her kind offer. You can stay here if you're that scared."

Havelock stared at Rust for a few moments then sighed. "Fine. We'll go to the castle." Once again, the weather responded to the word.

"Exthellent," said Igor. "Gentlemen, if you will follow me, the carriage ith jutht over here."

The group trailed after him and got into the carriage as Igor climbed up to the driver's seat. Igor turned his head slightly as the horses set off. "Don't worry, thurs, we'll thoon be there."

As the carriage made its way up the winding road, Havelock leant back into a shadow, deep in thought. So, they'd been attacked by werewolves; he didn't know much about Uberwald, no one did, but he'd heard that the nobility in Uberwald were somewhat unusual so it wasn't too much of a leap in logical thought to assume that the werewolves had been the Baron and his family. The innkeeper had been right to warn them, it seemed.

But Lady Margolotta had also been mentioned in the warning, and here they were on the way to her castle. So what was _she_? It was safe to assume that she wasn't a werewolf, or she would have been with the pack that'd just attacked them. He frowned as he searched his brain for an answer; the undead weren't that common in Ankh-Morpork yet and there certainly weren't many in the social circles Havelock normally travelled in. Zombie? No. Witch? Doubtful. Vampire? Hmm…a possibility, definitely a possibility…

They soon arrived at the mysterious Lady's castle, and as the men stepped off the carriage their jaws dropped one by one. Rather than the dark and foreboding presence it'd appeared to be further down the road, close to the castle looked anything but scary.

Downey grinned. "This is what you were afraid of, Vetinari? Some fairy-tale castle?"

Cyril sniggered unpleasantly but remembered too late that he was leaning on Havelock for support; Havelock gave him a cold look and pushed him away slightly, making Cyril scramble to keep his balance on the wet cobbles.

"Gentlemen," said Igor. "If you would follow me, pleath." The servant began to lead them through a maze of rooms; Havelock tried to make a mental note of the positioning of the most interesting ones but the confusing layout of the castle made it nearly impossible. Eventually they found themselves in a large wood-panelled parlour; Cyril hobbled over to a chair and sat down with a sigh of relief.

"Mithtreth ith currently occupied," Igor explained. "But thee thould be down thortly. Now, do any of you have any injurieth that need attending to?"

One by one the men shook their heads; while the crash had been a nasty one, the occupants of the carriage had escaped serious injury. Only Cyril, who had twisted his ankle, and Ludorum, who had cut his face on his sword when the carriage had flipped over, appeared to have anything other than the various small cuts and bruises that afflicted the others.

Igor smiled but seemed slightly disappointed. "Oh...good. I'll go and get you thome drinkth, gentlemen." He quickly left the room, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

Downey sprawled onto the sofa next to him and stretched, wincing slightly. "Well, this is more like it." He looked over at Ludorum, who was gingerly exploring the extent of the wound on his face. "Are you okay, Ludo? Want me to get that servant back here?"

Ludorum shook his head. "No, I'm okay; the bleeding seems to have slowed at least. What's up with that servant anyway? What kind of name is Igor?"

"Ith a very old one, thur."

Ludorum's head turned round so fast Havelock wondered if they would soon have to add whiplash to their list of injuries. "H-how did you just do that? I saw you leave the room!"

"Trade thecret, thur. Your drinkth, gentlemen," Igor laid a tray down on the table.

"Oh…thank you," said Downey. He picked up the decanter of brandy and waved it in his friend's direction. "Want one, Ludo? Rust? De Worde? Vetinari?"

Havelock shook his head. "No, thank you, Downey."

"Why are you standing by that window, Vetinari?"

"I'm just looking at the view."

"What view? It's _night_-time for gods' sake; you can't see a blasted thing out there."

"Probably not, Downey," Havelock replied. He smiled as a shadow flitted across the sky towards the castle. _Ah, there it is…_

He began to silently count in his head. _One…two…three...four…five…_

"Ah, Gentlemen," said a voice from the doorway as the thunder and lightening lit up the night sky. "Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Lady Margolotta von Ubervald. Velcome to my castle."


	4. Chapter 4

Downey quickly leapt to his feet and bowed. "My lady, thank you for your hospitality."

Margolotta smiled. "It's my pleasure, Mr…?"

"Francis Downey, my lady. Allow me to introduce my companions: Johan Ludorum, Ronald Rust, Cyril de Worde and Havelock Vetinari." At the mention of their name, each man bowed his head slightly.

Margolotta sat down on the sofa next to Ludorum, Downey standing behind her. "I heard you ran into some trouble on your journey. What happened?"

Rust snorted. "Trouble, my lady? That's something of an understatement; we were attacked by _werewolves_."

"Verevolves? My vord, I trust none of you vere hurt too badly?"

Downey shook his head. "No; a few cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious. The werewolves managed to crash our carriage but thankfully we were saved by a strange blue fire that suddenly appeared just as they were about to attack. They seemed to be scared of it."

"How fortunate for you; and how fortunate for me that it should bring you here," said Margolotta.

"Have you ever heard of this blue fire before, my lady?" asked Havelock.

Margolotta smiled. "I have heard of some travellers in danger being saved by such a thing, I've never seen it myself though."

"Really? I thought it was rather interesting that it should vanish just as your servant came to our rescue."

Margolotta stared at him a moment before answering. "A mere coincidence, Mr Vetinari." She turned back to the group and smiled brightly. "Ve are qvite near the Hub here, so ve occasionally get a build-up of magic; maybe that was vot caused it."

The group smiled and nodded in response, and to Havelock's surprise he found himself doing the same thing, his head swimming slightly. Of course, it was a build-up of magic in the area, he thought. Nothing to do with Lady Margolotta at all…

He shook himself slightly. "Perhaps, my lady, but that doesn't quite explain why the werewolves reacted to it in the way that they did; they seemed to be more angry than afraid."

Margolotta laughed pleasantly but the stare she turned on him was anything but. "Vell, who knows vot goes on in the minds of verevolves," she said. "I find myself vondering, Mr Vetinari, vhy you should be so qvick to question something that has not only saved you from certain death but has brought you to the safety of my castle."

Of course you're safe here, he thought, why are you questioning this? She wouldn't hurt any of you, you're completely safe… Havelock dug his nails into his palm and took a deep breath in an effort to clear his head. "And is it safe, my lady?" he choked out as he felt the skin on his palm break. Immediately he felt the fog in his mind lift.

Margolotta blinked and looked at him strangely. "Vhy vouldn't it be, Mr Vetinari?"

"Oh, come on, Vetinari," said Downey. "Forgive him, my lady, he's just being argumentative."

"I agree," Rust said. "Honestly, Vetinari, we're five grown men, I hardly think we have anything to fear from one little woman."

Margolotta smirked slightly. "It appears you are in the minority, Mr Vetinari."

"So it would appear, my lady."

"Of course, if you really feel that I pose some kind of threat, you are velcome to leave…"

Havelock smiled tightly. "I did not mean to question your motives in inviting us here, my lady," he lied. "I apologise if I have caused offence."

"Your apology is accepted, Mr Vetinari, and I extend my hospitality once more: vill you stay here in my castle?"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the lightening lit up the sky again. "Thank you, my lady; I accept your invitation."

"Good." With her smile in place once more, she turned to the rest of the group. "It appears you've had qvite a night of it, gentlemen. Although I see not all of you escaped injury."

Rust shifted in his chair. "The crash was rather a serious one, my lady, we were lucky to escape with our lives."

"Some of us were luckier than others…" muttered Cyril.

Downey sighed. "I've already apologised for falling on you, de Worde, but as I've already told you, I _was_ trying to avoid Ludo's sword at the time."

"Sword?" asked Margolotta.

"Yes," said Ludorum, smiling as much as his wound would allow. "I drew my sword in order to defend myself against the werewolves but I wounded myself on it when the carriage crashed."

"Oh, so that is how you came by this?" She reached out a slightly trembling hand to the cut. "It's still bleeding slightly."

"Is it? Oh damn, I've lost my handkerchief."

Downey pulled his out of his coat pocket and held it out to Ludorum, who leant forward to grab it. As he did so, a necklace fell out from behind his shirt; Margolotta suddenly reared back and hissed, her eyes wide.

"Is something wrong, my lady?" asked Ludorum, concerned.

"Y-your necklace…it's the religious symbol of the god Orm, is it not?" she choked out.

Ludorum smiled and held up the charm. "Oh, this thing? Yes, it represents my devotion to the Great Orm or something." Seeing Downey's questioning look, he shrugged. "Cynthia said I have to convert or she won't marry me."

Downey rolled his eyes as Ludorum tucked the necklace back into place behind his shirt; from his spot in the corner of the room Havelock saw Margolotta sigh in relief.

"I've never been vun for religious matters," she said.

"I bet," said Havelock softly.

Margolotta looked at him coldly. "Mr Vetinari, do you pray at all?"

Havelock smiled. "On occasion, I have been known to offer up a quick prayer to any god that may be listening."

"So you don't rely on the protection of any vun in particular?"

"I don't rely on the protection of anything, my lady."

"You'll have to forgive Vetinari's rather lacklustre attitude towards the gods, my lady," said Downey. "He's from Genua."

Havelock sighed. "For the last time, I'm not from Genua; I merely spent some time there when I was younger. I'm from Ankh-Morpork."

"There's that Genuan temperament," Downey grinned. He caught Havelock's glare and rolled his eyes again. "Okay, okay, you're Morporkian, through and through."

"I'm not sure I understand," said Margolotta. "How vould being from Genua affect your religious attitudes?"

"All they have over there is swamp gods," answered Rust, his voice dripping from disdain. "Gods they create to suit them."

"Have you never been to Genua, my lady?" asked Havelock.

Margolotta shook her head. "No, I haven't. The…climate vould not be to my liking."

"Too much sun?"

Margolotta glared at him. "Well, too much sun _is_ bad for the complexion."

Havelock smiled.

"Truth," said Cyril suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him. "The truth is the only thing you can really rely on; if you have that, you can do anything."

"Oh gods, here he goes again…" muttered Ludorum.

"You are a great believer in truth, Mr de Worde?" asked Margolotta. "Do you not find it sorely lacking in this world?"

"Sadly yes, my lady," replied Cyril. "Did you know that a lie can run around the world before the truth has got its boots on?" Ludorum groaned and hung his head.

Margolotta's smile froze. "Vot an…interesting expression," she managed.

Cyril smiled. "It's true, you know. People will believe a lie far more easily than the truth because the truth repulses them; they simply don't have the strength of character to be honest. That's why _I_ insist on being completely honest at all times."

"Except when it comes to yourself," Ludorum muttered. Margolotta's mouth twitched slightly.

"What an interesting idea," said Havelock. "Do you concur with Cyril's views on honesty, my lady?"

"I certainly believe that the truth is a precious commodity," she replied smoothly. "Did you know that in their Scone of Stone the dwarfs believe there is a grain of Truth?"

Cyril snorted with disdain. "Who cares about dwarfs? It's just another one of their silly little folk legends anyway."

"Nonetheless, they are firm believers in truth, Mr de Worde."

"As am I, my lady," said Cyril. "But I feel that dwarfish truth lacks a certain…quality. They're not naturally honest, you see."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's not in their nature. They lie, they cheat, and they overcharge on everything simply because it comes naturally to them. Of course, the same could be said of most species other than human; compared to these, humanity's natural superiority only seems more evident, really."

Margolotta's smile tightened. "Vot interesting ideas you have, Mr de Worde. But I vonder, vot are your views on the undead: vampires and verevolves and the like?"

Cyril sniffed. "They're nothing but animals. No real intelligence there."

"_Really_?"

Noticing Margolotta's expression, Havelock allowed himself to entertain the thought of her tearing Cyril's head off; it certainly would make the rest of the trip more bearable, but unfortunately it would draw attention to the group once they returned to the city. He sighed inwardly. "I think Cyril's views are somewhat tempered by our experiences earlier this evening, my lady; seeing your driver being ripped apart by werewolves in an unprovoked attack is enough to make anyone think twice about mixing with their kind again."

"I imagine it vould, Mr Vetinari," she said. "However, vhilst animal instincts and behaviour are prevalent in the character of verevolves, vampires are an entirely different breed and should not be tarred with the same brush simply because they share certain attributes with them."

"Of course not, my lady," Havelock said with a smile. "I would never approach a werewolf in the same way as I would a vampire."

Margolotta gave him an inquiring look. "And how vould you approach a vampire, Mr Vetinari?"

"With garlic and a stake for preference," said Rust, laughing.

Margolotta forced a laugh. "I've sent Igor down to your carriage to see about your belongings, he should be back vith them soon."

"Hopefully those werewolves won't have stolen anything," said Rust.

"I don't think they would have, Mr Rust," said Margolotta. "Verevolves aren't usually known for theft."

"No, just murder," said Havelock.

Margolotta ignored him. "I'm not sure about vot can be done vith your carriage though; if Igor can repair it, he vill. He's so good with his hands. But if that isn't possible, I vill be happy to loan you one of mine, and of course you are all velcome to stay until the repairs are completed if you'd rather take your own."

Downey bowed slightly. "That's very kind of you, my lady. But it is getting rather late; I wonder if we might be shown where we can sleep?"

"Of course," said Margolotta. "Igor—"

"Yeth, Mithtreth?"

"—vill show you to your rooms." She stood up and smoothed out her skirts, giving each of the group a look in turn, her gaze lingering slightly on Havelock before she walked towards the door. "Pleasant dreams."


	5. Chapter 5

Havelock smiled grimly as he turned the page of the book. Well, it was just as bad as he thought it'd be, but there might be some hope…

A pale hand reached down and picked up the stake he'd placed beside him on the table. "You know, some people may consider you valking around my castle carrying this to be rather bad manners, Mr Vetinari."

"Really? I wonder if those same people might also consider it bad manners to invite stranded travellers into your castle for the night merely so you don't have to go out to eat," he said without looking up.

Margolotta smiled. "You don't have to vorry about your friends, I've already eaten tonight."

"Yes I know; I saw you arrive back at the castle earlier from the direction of the town."

"Vell aren't you the sneaky one."

Havelock looked up and smiled back at her. "You have no idea."

"So vhy are you creeping around my castle at this time of night, Mr Vetinari?"

"Lord Vetinari."

"Pardon?"

"It's Lord Vetinari, not Mr."

Margolotta laughed. "My vord, a lord already and so young; I mean, vot are you, tvelve?"

"I'm _nineteen_," he said, glaring at her.

"Oh vell, I apologise. You are obviously _very_ grown-up," she said in a slightly patronising tone. "So may I ask, vot exactly are you doing?"

"Catching up on my reading."

"Really? And vot are you reading about?" she asked.

"You."

She gave him a startled look. "The Almanac de Gothique?"

"Yes. So are you really four hundred and thirty? You certainly wear it well."

Margolotta preened slightly. "It's the virgin's blood; it does vonders for the skin."

"Reducing the human race to little more than a cosmetic range," Havelock said grimly. "How wonderful."

"Oh I dare say I could think of a few more uses for you, Lord Vetinari," said Margolotta with a smile. "Spare parts for Igor, perhaps."

"Why did you really invite us here?"

"I believe I've already answered that question tonight; I vanted to save you from the verevolves."

Havelock closed the book and leaned forward slightly. "Why?"

Margolotta placed the stake back on the desk then leant back in her chair. "It's a game; the doggies chase the travellers and I try to save them. Any that I do save come to my castle for shelter and I get a little 'revard' and some company for a vhile."

"A game?" asked Havelock icily. "So it _was_ you that was responsible for that fire."

Margolotta raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you don't like the vord? Okay, let's call it an…Arrangement instead. And yes, that vas me; a simple parlour trick, nothing more. Don't look at me like that, Lord Vetinari; anyvun who comes to a vampire's castle villingly and doesn't expect to get bitten fully deserves vot they get. After all, remember the alternative; I could have left you to the verevolves."

"But at least they're honest about their intentions," said Havelock, an angry look in his eyes. "You won't be biting any of us, Lady Margolotta."

She gave him a toothy grin and tilted her head to one side coquettishly. "You think you can stop me?"

"Yes, I do."

Suddenly she launched herself off the chair and around the table, grabbing him by the throat and pulling him close. "You stupid child," she snarled. "You have no idea vot you're dealing with."

Havelock smiled weakly as she tightened her grip. "Neither do you; look down," he choked out.

Margolotta looked down at her chest where the wooden stake protruded by only a few inches. She gave him a menacing grin. "Qvick, aren't you? But it takes more than that to kill a vampire, Lord Vetinari; you do have to cut off the head as ve--" She froze as a knife suddenly pressed against her throat.

"Not quite as handy as a sword, and I dare say I'll have to apply quite a bit of force, but it _will_ suffice," Havelock croaked. "Let go of me. _Now_."

Margolotta released her grip and they both slowly returned to their seats, watching each other warily. She reached down and grimaced as she pulled the stake out of her chest before tossing it into a shadow behind her. "Fine; vot do you vant?" she asked tetchily.

"I want to negotiate a new Arrangement," he replied.

She laughed grimly. "The Arrangement has been in place for hundreds of years; vot makes you think you can come here and change it just like that?"

Havelock smiled. "I do have another stake in my jacket pocket if you'd like me to show you why again," he answered calmly. "Besides I just want to change it for the duration of our visit, that's all."

"And vot would this new Arrangement be, exactly?"

"You don't harm a single one of us in any way and I'll teach you."

She leaned forward, interested. "Vell, such arrogance in vun so young is refreshing, I'll admit. Teach me vot?"

"How to rule this country."

Margolotta leant back again and chuckled. "I see; forgive me if I seem sceptical, Lord Vetinari, but I hardly think a few years of Political Expediency classes at your guild is going to prepare you for the realities of Ubervaldean politics."

Havelock gave her a surprised look. "How did you know I--"

"You're not the only vun who reads up on your opponents, Lord Vetinari. I keep a copy of Twurp's Peerage upstairs in my rooms, just in case of visitors; it's good to know vot to expect."

"It helps to know your enemy, I suppose?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't think of you as an enemy, Lord Vetinari; but I don't consider you a friend either. I read that both of your parents are dead, is that true?"

Havelock nodded.

"Well, it appears that ve have something in common after all," said Margolotta. "Of course, I killed mine." She noticed the look Havelock directed at her and rolled her eyes. "I had to; they _vere_ going to murder me." She paused and tilted her head again, giving him a long stare. "Who did you kill?"

"Excuse me?" asked Havelock, taken aback. "What makes you think I've killed someone?"

"The vay you move," she answered. "Vampires have excellent hearing but you managed to make it almost all the vay down here to my library without me hearing you. You didn't hesitate to use the stake just now. And of course, there's the group you're with."

Havelock stared at her, his head reeling slightly. "What's…what about them? We're just a group of young noblemen from Ankh-Morpork travelling through Uberwald."

Margolotta rested her head in her hands and looked at him. "Just? Your companions are nothing but loud, arrogant bores, Lord Vetinari. Oh don't get me wrong, there's usually one or two of their kind in any group of travellers from your city, but to find a group comprised of nothing but? Excluding you, of course. You're obviously nothing like them; in fact I get the distinct impression you can barely stand them, but they do offer some protection, don't they?"

Havelock continued staring at her, too shocked to interrupt.

"Everyvun will be so busy looking at them, they'll barely notice you," continued Margolotta. "Giving you the perfect opportunity to hide; and you vouldn't need to hide if you hadn't done something bad, like kill someone important while not on commission." Her stare intensified and a predatory grin spread over her face. "Now let me think, who important has died in Ankh-Morpork recently?"

Havelock took a deep breath and tried to control his panic. "My lady, I can assure you that you're mistaken."

"Really? Your heartbeat says othervise."

"Maybe you're underestimating the effect you have on me, my lady. It's not often I get to spend time with such a beautiful woman."

Margolotta grinned. "Trying to change the subject?"

"Yes. Is it working?"

"Slightly," her gaze softened and Havelock tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"Yes," he replied. "Surely someone has told you that before though?"

"Of course they have. But I vas born a vampire, Lord Vetinari, so that means—"

"—No reflection," he finished.

"Exactly, so I've spent my entire life seeing myself through other people's eyes," she said. "Besides, it's alvays nice to get a compliment from a young man."

"I would have thought you'd have had your fill of them by now," said Havelock with a small smile. "You must get quite a few visitors up here."

"True, but they never stay for long," Margolotta said, a wistful edge to her voice. She began to trace small circles on the wooden surface of the table. "They alvays leave…"

"Must be lonely," Havelock said in a distant voice. "Never letting yourself get too close to anyone, never trusting anyone, not even your family, just in case." He sighed.

Margolotta looked up at him and gave him a faint smile. "It seems ve have vun more thing in common, Lord Vetinari."

Havelock returned the smile. "So it would appear, my lady," he said softly.

She looked down at the table again and coughed nervously. "You know, I've been thinking, perhaps ve could extend the terms of the Arrangement."

"To include what?"

She smiled shyly. "You are so different to anyone I've ever met before; I…I vould like to get to know you better."

"In what way?" asked Havelock, slightly confused.

"Like this." She leaned across the table and kissed him lightly on the mouth.

Havelock sat frozen to the spot. "O-oh," he stammered. "I...um…I don't think that's a good idea."

"Vhy not? You find me attractive, don't you?"

"Well, yes, but--"

"But vot?"

Havelock took a deep breath and looked intently at her. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Margolotta smiled at him fondly. "You can't," she said as she bent her mouth to his once more. "But at least I'm telling you that; that's got to mean something, hasn't it?"


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: I know this is slightly late but I got rather caught up in the Celebrity Big Brother thing and spent most of the evening voting Jade out rather then posting this, and then I forgot I hadn't and it turned into a whole big thing where I'd log in, check my stats and forget about this. Sorry :)

Anyway, enjoy (I hope) and I promise to post the next chapter on Friday as normal.

* * *

Havelock awoke to the feel of Margolotta gently kissing his forehead. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

She returned the smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to vake you."

"That's okay, I usually get up early anyway," he raised himself up on one elbow and looked at her. "You're leaving?"

"I have to return to my coffin; it's almost daylight," she answered, running one hand affectionately up and down his arm. "You'll still be here in the evening, von't you?"

"Of course. Have pleasant dreams."

"I vill," she leaned down and kissed him on the lips. "Have a good day."

As he watched her walk away Havelock found his mind drifting back to the previous night's events; it had certainly been an interesting evening. He got out of bed and got dressed slowly, humming to himself all the while.

When he wandered downstairs to the dining room, he found Ludorum already sat there, looking bleary-eyed at his breakfast. "You're up early," said Havelock. "I thought you usually slept in until about ten."

"I do," Ludorum replied, yawning. "But unfortunately I was kept awake all night listening to you 'entertaining' our hostess."

"Entertaining our hostess? What do you mean by that, Ludo?" said Downey, entering the room and stretching. "Morning, Do—Vetinari."

"Vetinari had sex with Lady Margolotta last night," Ludorum replied, stabbing viciously at his eggs with a fork. "And unfortunately, _I_ had to hear it."

Downey collapsed into a chair and smirked at Havelock. "Guess that means you aren't gay anymore then."

"I never was, Downey."

"If you say so."

Cyril stumbled into the room, glaring at the occupants. "Bloody bird started singing outside my window and woke me up. Stupid sodding wildlife," he grumbled. Suddenly he looked at Ludorum. "Hang on, what are you doing up so early? You get up later than I do."

"I was awoken by the yelps coming from Vetinari's room," explained Ludorum. He noticed Cyril's puzzled expression. "He slept with her ladyship," he explained slowly.

Cyril nodded and poured himself a cup of coffee. "Why didn't you go to sleep when they'd finished yelping?"

"I couldn't; I kept expecting it to start up again." Suddenly a wicked smile appeared on Ludorum's face. "I say, you couldn't start giving me that speech about truth and all that again, could you? I could have a little nap then." Cyril glared at him.

Downey laughed then turned to Havelock, his face serious. "Vetinari, I wanted to ask you something--"

"Before you ask, no, I'm not telling you what happened."

Downey grinned. "No, it's not about _that_; but it is about Margolotta. I...er...I think she may be a vampire."

Vetinari smiled slightly. "Really? And what makes you think that?"

"Well, I'm not sure or anything but, um, she _is_ rather pale. And then there's that accent; it's all V's."

"So? Everyone has an accent of some kind, Downey. Hers is just more…pronounced."

"Maybe so, but what about her reaction to Ludo's necklace last night? Come on, Vetinari, I'm not stupid; I know you were trying to tell us something about her yesterday. So what do you reckon: is she?"

Vetinari took a small sip of his coffee before answering. "Yes," he said. "Yes, she's a vampire."

"What?!" said Cyril, looking startled.

"Why didn't you tell any of us?" asked Downey.

"You had--"

"Because I didn't think you would believe me," answered Havelock calmly. "Let's face it, you don't value my opinion too highly."

"You had se—"

"Even so, a warning of some kind would be appropriate, don't you think?" Downey asked incredulously. "She could've murdered us all in our beds last night."

"You had sex with a _vampire_?!" Cyril shrieked.

Havelock glared at Cyril briefly then turned back to Downey and sighed. "We're perfectly safe--"

"Oh, I'm sure we are," said Downey sarcastically. "You spent all yesterday evening trying to get us out of this place, saying we were in danger, then she lifts her skirts and suddenly it's all okay."

"I had a word with her last night, we discussed it thoroughly and she's promised not to hurt any of us."

"Yes, I heard you 'discussing' it with her all last night," said Ludorum. "What exactly did you say to her to convince her."

"I threatened to kill her if she tried anything, then I drove a stake into her chest."

"And that made her want to have sex with you?"

"Apparently."

Ludorum shook his head in disbelief. "You've got bloody strange taste in women, Vetinari."


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Yay, I've posted on time! Okay, first of all; thank you, _thank you_, THANK YOU to everyone who's reviewed and to everyone who's read the story. It's much appreciated.

As for the missing Margolotta/Havelock sex scene: I can't write sex scenes with those two. Or rather I can (and I have), but there's no _way_ I'm posting it because, well, _eek_. So if anyone wants to write and post the scene themselves, then go ahead, I'd love to read what you all think happened.

* * *

Havelock spent the day in something of a daze; he explored the castle thoroughly until he knew it as well as he did his own house back in Ankh-Morpork, he watched Igor begin repairs on the carriage and he thoroughly trounced Cyril three times at chess but he knew his heart wasn't in it really and he knew why – he couldn't stop thinking about Lady Margolotta.

It was certainly worrying; he'd seen men in his aunt's company turn into love-sick puppies at the merest sound of her voice and he was determined not to let that happen to him with Margolotta. _No_, he thought as he beat Cyril for the third time, _I'll tell her last night was very pleasant but it can't happen again_.

"How did you do that?" demanded Cyril. "Were you cheating?"

"Hmm?"

"You were, weren't you? You must've been; you've never beaten me three times in a row before."

_That's because I was letting you win, you pompous twerp_, thought Havelock. "Just lucky I guess, Cyril. Want another game?"

Cyril's eyes widened as he looked past Vetinari at the doorway. "Er…n-no, I've, er, I've got to go and talk to Rust about something." He scurried out of the room quickly.

A cool hand slid across the back of his neck. "Miss me?"

"Lady Margolotta," said Havelock, tensing slightly; he'd been so busy daydreaming about her, he hadn't noticed the sunset. "Did you have a good sleep?"

She slid into the seat Cyril had just vacated. "Indeed, I did," she grinned wickedly. "I had some very interesting dreams."

"I'm glad, my lady, but I--"

Margolotta waved a hand and smiled warmly at him. "Call me Margolotta, please; I think ve can dispense with formality now, don't you?"

"Actually, I don't think we can," Havelock took a deep breath and looked steadily at her. "Last night was very pleasant but it can't happen again."

She looked amused. "Pleasant? Is that vord really appropriate?"

"And what would you consider to be an appropriate word, my lady?"

"How about…a revelation?" She saw Havelock raise an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm not trying to flatter you, I'm just being honest; it vas the first time I'd been with someone vithout trying to bite them." She sighed. "I actually felt like a person."

"Perhaps pleasant wasn't the right word after all," he said, slightly taken aback.

"No it really vasn't," Margolotta replied. "So vhy are you refusing my affection?"

"I feel it would not be prudent to continue; after all, I won't be staying here for long."

"I do know that," said Margolotta with a smile. "I'm not some misty-eyed debutante from Ankh-Morpork, my lord; I don't expect a proposal from this."

"Nonetheless, my lady, I have no desire to tarnish your reputation by taking advantage of your…hospitality."

"Lord Vetinari, do you honestly think you're the first person I've taken into my castle and then into my bed as vell?"

Havelock flinched slightly. "Of course not but--"

"You think I'd hurt you? I've already agreed that I von't bite any of you."

"There are other ways to harm me, my lady."

"Oh." Margolotta leaned back in her chair and looked gently at him. "I dare say I'm somewhat at risk of that myself, Lord Vetinari."

Havelock stared at the chess-pieces, still arranged from the game with Cyril. "I don't know what to say, my lady."

"Then perhaps ve should change the subject to one you feel more comfortable with. How did it feel to kill Lord Winder?"

Havelock's head snapped up. "What makes you think I killed him?"

"Oh don't start that again," said Margolotta. "Ve both know you vere responsible for his death."

"And I suppose nothing I say could dissuade you from that notion?" Margolotta shook her head in response and Havelock sighed. "The correct term is inhume. I _inhumed_ Lord Winder…or rather, that was my intention."

"Vhy?"

"He was no longer suitable for the post of patrician," explained Havelock. "Various other attempts were made on his life but they all failed; I succeeded."

"But isn't his replacement something of a madman? That couldn't have been intended, could it?"

"No of course not; but unless given a chance to prove otherwise, even the most depraved insanity can be hidden under a mask of banality."

"You thought you could control him…"

"Not me, my lady, although I was consulted briefly on the choice, my actual role was merely to facilitate Snapcase's ascension to the title of Patrician."

"So you snuck into the Palace under the cover of the Revolution and ki—sorry, inhumed Lord Winder," breathed Margolotta, an excited expression on her face.

Havelock smiled. "Yes and no, my lady. I did enter the Palace secretly but I did not kill Lord Winder." Margolotta opened her mouth to protest but Havelock waved a hand. "I really didn't; he had a heart attack before I could lay a finger on him."

"That must have been disappointing."

"Professionally, yes."

"And personally?" she asked.

"Personally I would've taken no pleasure in his death, that would make me no better than him; the fact that he died regardless is enough for me."

Margolotta leaned forward, toying with one of the pieces still on the board. "But vot about Lord Snapcase? It could be argued that he's even worse than Winder was."

"True, but the city is still too much in a state of turmoil for anything to be done about him now." Havelock sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it, it may be a number of years before he can also be replaced."

"Any candidates in mind?"

Havelock smiled. "One or two."

"My goodness, you've certainly led an exciting life," said Margolotta. "Only nineteen and you've already inhumed a Patrician of Ankh-Morpork; and now here you sit, telling the story to a vampire in her castle in Uberwald."

"Yes, it certainly has been eventful," said Havelock. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because I care about you," Margolotta replied with a smile. "I vant you to be happy."

"And?"

"…And I'm hoping I can get you to change your mind about us having a relationship."

"I'd hardly call us having sex repeatedly a relationship," Havelock said.

"Yes, but it's not just about that anymore, is it?"

Havelock stared at her and thought about denying it but he couldn't; she was right. Last night, it might've been but – no, even last night had meant more than that. If it had just been a good time he'd been after then all those months ago back at his aunt's house, Rosie Palm would've made herself a great deal of money; but that wasn't what he wanted. Margolotta understood him, even after less than a day together she knew him better than anyone ever had; was he really willing to give that up?

A smile spread slowly across his face. "Call me Havelock."

* * *

Downey awoke to the sound of someone pounding repeatedly on the door of his room. 

"Okay, okay, I'm getting up," he muttered as he threw back the covers. He opened the door and glared blearily at Ludorum. "What do you want? It's two o'clock in the morning for gods' sake."

"They're yelping again," said Ludorum, pushing past him. "So I'm sleeping in here with you tonight." He threw himself into the bed and lay back. "Goodnight, Downey."

Downey groaned and locked the door behind him before crawling into bed beside his friend. "Fine; but if you snore, I'm going to suffocate you with a pillow."

* * *

Margolotta laid her head on Havelock's chest and sighed happily. "That vas…pleasant." 

Havelock chuckled as he ran his fingers through her long dark hair. "Are you sure that's the right word?"

"It's as good as any other. Although I do find myself vondering about something."

"What?"

"I seem to recall a certain someone promising me some lessons in political theory." She smiled as she looked up at him. "Or vas that just a ploy to save your friends?"

"No of course not, although I'll admit it did slip my mind somewhat." He cleared his throat and shifted slightly. "The key to starting any career in politics is to first establish a reputation of note; but you must be careful to strike the right balance. You must be seen as ready to compromise but still maintain a steady grip on the situations unfolding. That can be achieved by the method by which you will approach any political situation--"

Margolotta giggled. "You sound like a textbook."

"Thank you," Havelock said sarcastically. "Now if I may continue?" she nodded. "Good. The correct method is not to amass power; any thug in the street has power. No, the key is to achieve _control_. You can force your opponents to act in certain ways by issuing threats or sending large groups of men after them but all this will achieve in the long term is that they will eventually send even larger groups after you. But by controlling the way they think of you and their expectations of your actions eventually all you need do is sit back and they will do what you want simply because they think that it is only way things can be done."

"And how exactly do I achieve this amount of control?"

"As I said in the beginning: by first establishing your reputation. The groundwork here has already been set; you already have quite a fearsome reputation if the werewolves' reactions to your interventions the other day are anything to go by. But unfortunately they do have an advantage which you do not: numbers. There's only one of you and they do have the added benefit of their bi-morphic ability. There's no way around that, but there is a way around the problem of numbers. Now this is what you will do tomorrow night…"


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Completely unrelated to the topic of this story, if anyone is interested, the Measure of Tyranny questionnaire complete with Lord Vetinari's answers _post_-spell is now available on my profile page.

Oh...and thanks for reviews and stuff. Much appreciated!

* * *

"You tied me to the bed with the cord from your dressing gown!" shouted Downey.

"I had to; you kept holding the pillow over my face!" Ludorum screamed back. "I don't know why you're so upset anyway! I untied you this morning, didn't I?"

"Yes, but I still had to hear you snoring all night!"

"For the last time: I don't snore!"

"Yes, you do!"

"He's right," said Havelock with a smile as he entered the dining room. "You snore quite loudly."

Ludorum whirled around to face him, his eyes narrowed. "Oh you could hear it over all the screaming coming from your room, could you?"

Havelock stared at him blankly. "Yes, I could."

"What is all this noise?" Rust said as he stomped into the room. "All I could hear last night was you two shouting, and now this? What's going on? You're acting as bad as the locals."

Downey took a deep breath. "Ludo and I were having a disagreement, we're sorry for waking you."

"Hmmph. Well, if you two are quite finished, let's sit down and have some breakfast, if we can find anything edible on the plate. Who cooked it anyway?"

"I did, thur."

"Really?" Rust picked up his fork and poked at his food suspiciously. "What do you call this?"

"Thcrambled eggth and thauthageth, thur."

"Hmm, if you say so. Now Vetinari…" He noticed Igor still standing beside him and swatted at the servant with his hand. "Go _away_, you dreadful creature. Now Vetinari, what's all this Cyril was telling me about Lady Margolotta being a bloodsucker?"

"It's true," said Ludorum. "We went downstairs to have a look around yesterday and she's got a mausoleum and a coffin and everything."

Havelock sighed. "Yes, she's a vampire and no, she won't hurt any of us, she's agreed not to."

"She agreed? Just like that?"

"Yes."

Rust shook his head in disbelief. "So you just accept the word of this vampire that she won't hurt any of us? What if she was lying? You should've told me as soon as you found out, Vetinari, instead of avoiding me all day yesterday."

"I wasn't avoiding you, Rust," lied Havelock. "Our paths just didn't cross; it _is_ a big castle."

Rust stared at him coldly. "Cyril also told me that you were heard having relations with her."

"Well, that's true," muttered Ludorum.

Havelock returned Rust's stare with one of his own. "I fail to see how it is any of your business."

"It _is_ my business, Vetinari, because in case you have forgotten, I'm your chaperone on this trip. Not only is it a breach of etiquette to behave in this way but she's a vampire." His lip curled briefly. "No, I simply forbid it."

"What?"

"I forbid you to see her in that way any more. Just because you don't have any family left to shame doesn't mean that you can act as you please."

Havelock smiled. "Actually it does; as you so eloquently put it, I have no immediate family left in the city to dishonour and unless you're willing to physically restrain me, I'll do whatever I want." He stood up and pushed his chair back into place beneath the table. "If any of you have a problem with that then you know where the castle doors are; I'm sure you'll be fine despite the fact that you have no carriage and the werewolves will probably still be after you. Now if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I'll be in the library. Oh, and do relay my little message to Cyril when he wakes up, won't you?"

"He's mad," said Downey, after Havelock had left the room. "He's completely and utterly mad."

"I agree," Rust nodded. "I know Vetinari's always been somewhat strange but to actually have a relationship with a vampire?"

"What if she bites him?" asked Ludorum, picking up his knife and fork.

"Oh I'm sure we'll notice any bite marks on his neck."

"There are other places to bite him than his neck," said Ludorum darkly. Downey shivered.

"Good morning, gentlemen," said Cyril as he sat down next to Rust. "What're we talking about?"

"Vetinari and the vampire."

"Oh," Cyril frowned. "Can't we just go? She did say she'd give us another carriage if we wanted one, we could leave him here."

"Yes she did," said Downey. "But as much as I hate to admit it, I think Vetinari may be right about the werewolves; there was one sitting in the outskirts of the forest all day yesterday, just looking at the castle."

Rust snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Downey, it was probably just a normal wolf."

"Go and have a look out the window then."

With an impatient sigh Rust got up and crossed over to one of the large windows that lined the walls of the dining room. He peered out in the direction of the forest.

"See anything?"

Rust stomped back to the table and sat down heavily. "Yes, there's one there now. So we're stuck here." He frowned for a second then suddenly his face brightened. "We could fight our way ou--"

"_No_!"

* * *

Lady Margolotta closed her eyes and took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the motions of the carriage.

"Nervous?"

She opened them again. "Yes," she turned to Havelock. "Are you sure I'm ready to do this? I was up all day vorrying about this; I didn't get a vink of sleep."

Havelock smiled at her reassuringly. "You'll be fine. Honestly, there's nothing to worry about."

"But vot if I make a mistake?"

"You won't."

The carriage reached its destination and silently came to a halt. Margolotta looked at Havelock, her eyes wide with panic. "Oh gods, how's my hair?"

Havelock chuckled. "Your hair is fine, your dress is fine; you look beautiful." He gave her a kiss. "Remember what I told you last night and you'll be okay. Now off you go."

She hesitated briefly then opened the door to the carriage and stepped out. She took another deep breath and fixed a bright smile on her face before approaching one of the guards standing by the entrance.

"My name is Lady Margolotta von Ubervald. I'm here to see the Low King."

…"_When they see that your request for an audience with him was genuine and that you've actually shown up, they'll be surprised, and that will give you a slight advantage. They'll be polite but wary, so be sure not to take any delays to be an insult. When they take you down to the audience chamber, they will make you wait, for a number of reasons; firstly it may take some time to get the Low King ready to see you, and secondly they will be testing your intentions towards this meeting. Wait no longer than ten minutes; any less will give the impression that you see yourself as superior to them and any longer will make it look as you're grovelling."…_

Margolotta counted the seconds down in her head_. …Five…four…three…two…one…_ She cleared her throat loudly, making the dwarf who had silently escorted her down to the anteroom look up suddenly. "I find it surprising that the Low King vould vish to insult me by making me vait so long."

Her guard, she found it hard to think of him otherwise, rattled off a stream of staccato dwarfish to one standing by the doorway to the audience chamber. He disappeared briefly then came out again accompanied by someone concealed in the apparel of the deep-down dwarfs.

"Lady Margolotta, allow me to welcome you to Schmaltzberg; my name is Dee, I am the Low King's_ jar'ahk'haga_. We apologise about the wait but there was some pressing business that his majesty has had to attend to. If you would come with me please."

…"_The Low King will treat you initially with a mixture of suspicion and indifference, again do not take this as an insult, even if he, aha, insults you; this is just a continuation of the test."_

_"You vant me to just stand there and let him insult me?"_

_"Or you can sit, whatever suits you." He'd grinned then and she'd slapped him lightly on the chest. "Ouch. By all means pick him up on any insults and maybe get in a few of your own but always make it seem friendly and stop if he seems angry; you don't want it to turn into a slanging match."…_

"Your majesty." Margolotta curtseyed briefly. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

The Low King shifted slightly in his chair and fixed her with an appraising stare. "No thanks required, my lady, I only accepted it out of curiosity; it's not every day I get a message from a vampire requesting an audience. Especially when it's from a vampire who's been known to murder my subjects." He waved a hand in the direction of the four dwarfs surrounding him, who'd trained crossbows on her almost as soon as he'd entered the room. "Forgive the guards but I don't trust you."

"I completely understand, your majesty; my past behaviour tovards your people has been reprehensible. But that is vhy I am here today, I vish for there to be peace between us."

"Really? And what would this peace entail exactly?"

"I vill promise not to harm any of your subjects in any vay if you promise that they will act accordingly. In addition I vill protect any of your subjects on my lands from attack by the Baron and his family."

"Ah, and therein lies your real motivation, my lady. I thought as much; you want us to protect you from the doggies."

…"_He'll already have some idea of why you're there, so don't try to hide it, but don't come out and say it either. Let him feel superior for a moment before reminding him of the benefits to him of entering this accord but _don't_ place too much of an emphasis on them; you want him to think he's agreeing to this of his own free will."…_

"A degree of co-operation _vill_ be required with regards to them, your majesty, and vith both of our resources pooled together I have no doubt--"

"What makes you think we think we can't deal with them ourselves?" snapped the king.

"I never suggested that you couldn't," Margolotta answered smoothly. "I merely thought that after that business in the mine at Grazk that you might be open to the offer of some…assistance."

The dwarf gave her a blank look and she saw Dee bend down and whisper something in his ear; a sad expression came over the elderly dwarf's face. "Ah, yes. We never did find the bodies…" He suddenly gave her a sharp look. "What makes you so sure that it was the Baron? It could've been you."

"Doubtful, your majesty; even if it had been me I vould not have taken every member of the several families that I've heard used to vork there."

"I suppose so; very well, I shall consider your proposal." The dwarf turned to face Dee who was now handing him some papers. "If you would excuse me, my lady, I have a great deal of work to do."

…"_Even if nothing tangible comes of the meeting, it will prove useful as you'll have shown the Low King that you can at least appear reasonable. The longer you're down there, the better; that'll mean that he's listening to you and the longer he listens, the higher his estimation of you. Plus, the knowledge that you've visited with the Low King for any length of time longer than it would take for you to be chased out of the place will worry the werewolves considerably."…

* * *

_

Havelock sighed and leaned back against the side of the carriage. Margolotta had been gone for ages; while that probably meant things were going well down there he couldn't help but feel impatient to know what'd happened. He shifted uneasily as a owl hooted somewhere nearby; as much as he hated to admit, he was nervous about being left alone out here, even the guards at the entrance had gone inside. He would've felt a lot happier if he had something silver on him, but hadn't been able to find anything in the castle that would do. A branch snapped to his left and he whirled round suddenly, coming face to face with a young blonde woman.

She smoothed out the folds in her rather rumpled green dress and gave him a pleasant smile. "Hello."

"Hello."

"What are you doing?"

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, he noticed. "Just waiting for a friend," he replied in a nonchalant tone. "She won't be long."

"You friend is visiting the dwarfs?"

"Yes, she has a meeting with the Low King." He heard a rustle from the outskirts of the forest, the rest of the werewolves must be trying to circle around. "You know, you look rather familiar; have we met before?"

He could've sworn her teeth lengthened slightly at the question. "That's funny; I was just wondering the same thing."

He heard the entrance to the dwarf mines open and tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. He turned to face Margolotta as she walked up to him. "How did the meeting go?"

She kissed him on the cheek. "Very vell indeed. Oh hello, Serafine, I didn't notice you there."

Serafine smiled unpleasantly. "Hello, Margolotta. I see your new pet has been teaching you some tricks; going to the dwarfs for help? What a _human_ idea."

Margolotta smiled back. "Vot makes you think I vas going to them for help? I vas merely saying hello, it's been such a long time since I saw the Low King." The smile disappeared. "Then I came out here to see you bothering my friend."

There was a threat barely concealed there and they all knew it; Serafine laughed breezily. "I wasn't bothering him, Margolotta, I was just saying hello myself."

"You'll have to excuse Serafine, my dear, she's only been out of finishing school for six months and she's forgotten her manners already." Margolotta sighed. "Havelock, meet Baroness Serafine von Ubervald; Serafine, this is Lord Havelock _Vet_inari."

The werewolf flinched slightly, and then a look of realisation flooded her features. "Oh yes, Sybil's little friend. She was so excited someone was taking her to that dance, and now here you are, spending time with a vampire." She laughed again, although this time it had a malicious edge to it. "The poor deluded fool."

"Vell, it's been fun, but ve really have to go," said Margolotta in a brittle voice. "Shall ve go, Lord _Vet_inari?"

As the carriage pulled away Havelock heard Serafine call out. "Goodbye, Havelock; we'll be seeing you soon…"

Margolotta grimaced. "Awful voman, isn't she? She came up here about four months ago to marry the Baron and she's been nothing but a pain ever since." She shivered. "I dread to think vot the children will be like."

Havelock nodded. "Frightful, probably. I do find myself rather fixated on her use the word 'pet' though," he raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

"Serafine is something of a snob; she thinks that ve're naturally superior to humans."

"Do you share her views?"

Margolotta smiled. "I don't think I'm better than you."

"That didn't answer my question."

She sighed and looked out the window. "I know; but it's the only answer I'm going to give you."

They rode the rest of the way home in silence.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Hi, I'm back! (Smiles at the three people who actually notice). The holiday was shorter than planned due to the extremely melodramatic argument I had with my significant other on Valentines--he stormed out and then back in, then I stormed out and basically we spent most of the evening walking in and out of the house while yelling at each other--but that at least means that I get to post an update to this. Yay!

Right, so this is _this_ week's update; I'll post the next chapter next week, mostly because I'm mean like that.

Oh and um...I _can_ take criticism, so ignore that review page blow-up I had the other week. That sort of thing doesn't ususally happen, I promise.

And finally...I'm looking for someone who might be willing to beta some of my work. Any takers? Of course I offer to do the same for them :) but only with regards to Discworld stuff because that's the only fandom I feel I really know.

* * *

Downey leaned back and rubbed his stomach contentedly. "Now that was what I'd call a good meal." 

"Yes, that was actually not bad," said Rust. "I suppose that servant is good for something, after all."

"Thank you, thur. May I get you thome drinkth?"

"Yes I suppose so." Rust frowned when Igor didn't move. "Well, _go_ then."

"I need to clear away the plateth, thur," Igor explained patiently.

"Oh, be quick about it."

"Yeth, thur." Igor quickly cleared away their plates and cutlery and left the room hurriedly.

"What an awful creature," said Cyril. "I can't wait to get out of this place."

"Oh it could be worse," said Ludorum with a smile. "She's got a decently stocked liquor cabinet for one."

"Speaking of her ladyship, how is she, Vetinari?" asked Downey. "I haven't seen her for days."

"She's very well," said Havelock. "She told me to pass on her apologies for not spending more time with you all but she's been rather busy for the past few days."

Ludorum grinned. "I bet."

Igor entered the room again, this time carrying a tray. "Here'th your drinkth, gentlemen; a brandy for Mr Downey, a cognac for Mr Ludorum…" He placed the drink down on the table. "…A whithky for Mr Rutht, a glath of blood for Lord Vetinari and a therry for Mr de Worde."

Havelock looked at the shocked faces of his companions and smiled. "It's for her ladyship," he explained. "She'll be waking soon and no doubt she'll be hungry. Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen." He bowed slightly and picking up the glass, left the room.

_Now let's see_, he thought as he walked,_ right, left, down the stairs, left, left…Ah here we are…_The room he entered was little more than what must have been the remnants of the dungeon, but with one additional fact; in the middle of the room someone had built a large mausoleum. He glanced at the various decorative sculptures on the side of the side of the building and smiling, opened the ornate doors and entered. Inside was just a single coffin, tastefully made in polished walnut. Havelock leaned against a wall and began to wait.

No sooner had he begun to amuse himself by naming all of the cherubs lining the walls then the lid of the coffin swung open and Margolotta sat up. She blinked a few times then looked around, giving him a happy smile as soon as she saw him. "Good evening, Havelock."

"Hello, Margolotta. I thought you might be hungry, so…" he held up the glass. "…I brought you breakfast."

"Aw, you're so sweet," she took it and her smile grew wider. "I love getting breakfast in bed." She took a sip then coughed. "This is _cow's_ blood."

"Yes, I know."

"But I thought it was human…vhy on the disc are you giving me this?"

"And where would I get human blood for you, my lady?" said Havelock, raising an eyebrow.

"From your companions?"

Havelock smiled slightly. "Don't tempt me. No, the contents of that glass are just a required part of your next lesson."

"And vot is that, exactly?"

"In addition to the Low King you'll also need the support of some other opponents of the werewolves; namely the humans of the nearby town."

Margolotta stared at him. "And this--" she waved the glass. "--vill help me achieve that? How?"

"The reason the humans dislike you is because you hunt them, just as the werewolves do; by switching to an animal-blood diet, you will help to lessen your image in their minds as that of an enemy," Havelock explained. He stopped. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Hold this," she handed Havelock the glass and climbed out the coffin. "Let me see if I understand you correctly; you vant me to start drinking the blood of _animals_ in order to make the human occupants of Bonk feel safer around me than they do with the verevolves?"

Havelock nodded. "Yes. I spent all day researching it; vampires can live on animal blood just as well as human. There was even a vampire queen in a place called Lancre that never touched a drop of hum--"

"That's because she had people _impaled_, Havelock," Margolotta sighed. "She vould sit there and eat her raw steak and vatch people being tortured. She had her share of human blood; she just didn't drink it."

"Regardless, it can be done; and after just a few months of an all-animal diet you can go and negotiate a settlement with the town mayor, like you did with the Low King."

"_Vot_?!"

"Is something wrong?" Havelock asked, surprised.

"You vant me to belittle myself by negotiating with _humans_? Have you completely lost your mind?" There was an edge to Margolotta's voice that Havelock hadn't heard before. "I am a vampire; I hunt them and kill them as I please because they…don't…matter. It may be different in your city, Havelock, but here in Uberwald humans are little more than a valking meal."

"So you agree with Serafine's opinions after all."

Margolotta sighed again. "Her views are not that uncommon amongst our kind; she's just a little more vocal about them then the rest of us. After all, vould you negotiate with cattle?"

"Cattle?" Havelock frowned. "You know, I'm having trouble deciding which is the more offensive; having my entire species being compared to livestock, or being referred to individually as your pet."

"I vasn't--" Margolotta stopped suddenly and took a deep breath. "Things have been this way in Uberwald for hundreds of years. I don't expect you to condone my views but I do expect you to understand vhy I have them." She looked at him pleadingly. "Please, Havelock, let's not fight anymore."

Havelock sighed. "I suppose it was a bit much to expect you to change four hundred years of behaviour in a few days."

"It's okay, I know your heart is in the right place," she took his arm and began to lead him out of the mausoleum.

"You do know that eventually you will have to do it though, don't you?"

"And vhy is that?"

Havelock stopped and looked at her. "Margolotta, the humans in Uberwald aren't going to stay in snivelling in the metaphorical corner for long, you know. You may be powerful but if you aren't willing to change then you may find that one day the 'cattle' are more of a threat than you give them credit for."

"Perhaps; but do you really think that me pretending to be human is the only answer?"

"My lady, I never said you should do any such thing; I merely suggested that a change in eating habits may be more practical in the long term."

"Havelock, do you know vot happens to vampires vhen they stop drinking human blood?" she asked with a frown.

He shook his head. "No, there weren't--"

"They became rather…eccentric."

"In what way?"

"They start obsessing over the strangest things," she explained. "It's the stress, you see. Being around other people, hearing all that blood just pumping away…" Her gaze drifted down to Havelock's neck and he quickly took a step back. She smiled. "…but I do have a great deal of self-control."

"I'm glad to hear it. Perhaps we could try switching your diet when your guests have gone."

Margolotta beamed at him. "Ve? You're thinking of staying?"

"Er…the thought has crossed my mind, I suppose," he said. "If I did, would that be okay…?"

"Of course it vould!" She hugged him tightly then coughed, stepped back and took a deep breath to calm herself. "I mean…I vould be very happy should you decide to stay longer," she said calmly.

Havelock smiled back at her. "As would I, my lady."

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, now just to pre-empt any criticism more of the political stuff will happen next chapter, I promise, so please be patient. 


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Thanks everyone for the reviews and a special thank you to everyone who mentioned the argument thing, you're all very sweet.

Sacharissa - Good point about Igor. The only way I can explain it is that Ludorum etc are keeping their eyes on him at all times so he can't pull the disappearing trick that Igors normally use. Plus, if I was in a room with that lot, I'd hurry leaving too. But that's just a retcon, so feel free to ignore it. Basically, I screwed up.

Anyway, on to the story…

Havelock stood in front of the breastplate and studied his reflection. Hair smoothed down? Yes. Clothes rumple-free? He smoothed down the front of the jacket and looked down at the rest of his clothes. As a student at the Guild he'd never quite understood the preoccupation his classmates had towards their appearance. Looking neat and presentable was important, but the way they'd fussed over themselves, taking care to always dress in the best fabrics and latest designs, it was just so silly. He'd played along of course, after all it always paid to not stand out too much, whatever the reason, but he was seriously beginning to look forward to a time when he didn't have to bother with all this nonsense.

Even so, he'd found it rather difficult to cope with the lack of mirrors in the castle. Shaving in particular had been a rather interesting experience as he'd never tried seeing if it had been done properly just by touch before. It had gone reasonably well. He hadn't ended with a striped effect like Cyril had but he knew that just because something worked the first time didn't mean it would work the second and so he'd improvised by getting Igor to remove a breastplate from one of the suits of armour that were dotted around the castle so he could use it as a mirror.

Finally satisfied with his appearance, Havelock quickly put on his coat and left his room.

"Going somewhere, Vetinari?"

Havelock quickly fixed a smile on his face. "Yes, Ludorum, I'm going to visit the cuckoo clock museum in the town. Would you like to accompany me?"

Ludorum burst out laughing. "Good one, Vetinari! I always knew you had a sense of humour somewh--" He stopped. "Oh gods, you're serious aren't you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because it's a bunch of clocks," Ludorum replied. "It's boring."

"Oh, I don't know," said Havelock. "It could be rather interesting. Shall I ask the others if they wish to come?"

"Don't bother, they won't want to." Ludorum shook his head. "Honestly, were you born middle-aged? You do know that at our age you're supposed to be having fun, don't you?"

"I've always thought fun can be found in the most surprising places, Ludorum."

"Whatever. Have fun with your clocks."

Havelock watched him walk away and smiled. It was a good thing Ludorum had said no; the last thing Havelock wanted was someone accompanying him on this little trip.

"Here we are, thur."

"Capital." Havelock stepped out of the carriage. "Give me about an hour before you return please, Igor. There are some important matters I must attend to."

"Yeth, thur." Igor leaned forward and beckoned Havelock closer. "Um, thur, I think I thould warn you that the we--"

"Yes, I know, Igor." Havelock smiled. "I was rather counting on it."

"Oh. Good. I'll come back in an hour then, thur."

Havelock wandered into the Museum, giving a friendly smile to the curator on the way in. It always paid to make the right impression. "Good afternoon."

"Afternoon, sir."

Dozens of cuckoo clocks lined the walls of the room. He stifled a sigh as he realised just how long he was going to have to look at the blasted things before approaching the man again. Ludorum was right; clocks _were_ boring. He arranged his features into something approaching interest and began to read the small plaques that were beneath each clock. Hopefully he shouldn't have to wait too long though before…

The bell above the museum door rang out once more and a large bearded man entered. The curator paled and quickly scurried over to the other side of the room. Havelock reached out a long thin hand in pretence of feeling some of the baroque metalwork adorning the clock in front of him but really it was just so he could adjust its angle slightly so the reflection in its glass was more suitable. He smiled as he saw the man look his way for a few seconds then nonchalantly approach an exhibit nearby.

After twenty excruciatingly boring minutes of clock-watching he decided it was time to approach the curator again. "You have a wonderful display here," he said politely.

The curator smiled. "You're interested in clocks, sir?"

_No_. "Yes, especially this kind. I enjoy the way that their decorative aspects are so ornate yet their workings are rather more…simplistic? Is that the right word?"

"In a way, sir, in a way. The Uberwaldian cuckoo clock may look simple but really it depends on a delicate harmony of nature and machine."

Havelock smiled; maybe they weren't so dull after all. "Really? In what way?"

"You have to put the bird in before they'll work, sir."

"…Oh. I did wonder why none of them were."

"We did have the birds in the beginning, sir," said the old man. "But with this many clocks all chiming at once, it got a bit deafening. And the neighbours would complain. Plus there was bird shit _everywhere_. On the ceiling, the windows, the doors--"

"How interesting."

"Not really, sir. Unless you're interested in bird shit, of course. So how did you find out about our museum anyway, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Lady Margolotta told me."

The curator's eyes widened. "You—you're staying with Lady Margolotta?" he asked in a choked voice.

"Yes. Why?" Havelock tried desperately not to laugh as the curator leaned back and tried to see if there were any bite marks on his neck in what he probably thought was a surreptitious manner. "She's a very friendly woman, isn't she? Most hospitable."

"Yeah, she's always eager to help out young men in trouble," said the curator slowly. "Have a coach crash or something, did you?"

"Yes, there were these great big wolves that attacked us for no reason," said Havelock. "Drove our carriage off the road, killed our horses and were about to kill us when her Ladyship saved us. Not that we needed any help really, we would've had no problem dealing with such dumb animals."

The bearded man growled slightly.

_I knew it._

"Er…"

"Is something wrong?" Havelock asked politely.

The curator coughed. "The…um…Ba--"

The bearded man growled again.

"Nothing, no nothing's wrong," said the curator quickly. "Nothing at all."

"Oh. Very well. I have something I'm supposed to tell you."

"What's that, sir?"

Havelock appeared to think for a moment. "Lady Margolotta said that I was to come here and ask to see the Mayor of the town because of the interesting clock in his house," he said slowly. He paused. "I'm pretty sure that was what she said."

"Lady Margolotta wants you to see the Mayor?"

Havelock nodded. "Yes. Because of the clock…certainly not for any other reason."

"Riii-i-iight." The curator looked at the bearded man then sighed. "Well, what her ladyship wants she gets, I suppose."

Havelock smiled. "You've noticed that too?"

"I'm so sorry to drop in on such short notice," said Havelock with every ounce of charm he could muster. "But her Ladyship was rather adamant."

"That you see my clock…?" Mayor Riblitz eyed him warily.

"Yes. She was wondering if you might allow me to purchase it from you. She feels it would go rather well in one of the bedrooms."

"That'd be the blue one, I suppose?"

Havelock's smile slipped for a second; his room was blue. "Possibly, I didn't enquire too closely."

"I expect not." Riblitz walked over to the six-foot clock standing in the corner of the room and patted it absent-mindedly, not taking his eyes of the young Assassin. "Tell me, Lord Vetinari, do you like it?"

Havelock looked at the overly-ornate design and tried to think of something pragmatic to say while his guild-enhanced sense of style screamed at him to run. "It's an…interesting design," he finally managed.

"You've got good taste," said the mayor. "But I guess her ladyship already knows that."

This time Havelock didn't bother to disguise his glare. "Shall we discuss payment?"

"Fine; I want two hundred Ankh-Morporkian dollars."

"What? It's just an old cl—" Havelock sighed and pulled a money-pouch out of his pocket. "I'll pay fifty now and the rest on delivery. I expect you to bring the clock to the castle tomorrow night. I'll send Igor down with the carriage."

Riblitz shook his head. "I'm not going up there at night."

"If you do I'll pay you an extra ten dollars." Havelock smiled as the man nodded hesitantly, grabbed at the pouch and began counting the coins inside. "You are to accompany the clock yourself, Mr Riblitz. I don't trust middlemen."

"Fair enough. Why not tonight?"

"Her ladyship will be attending a meeting with the Low King."

"Another one?" Riblitz looked at him curiously. "I heard she approached him with some kind of truce. Is that true?"

"I'm not sure. She did say that she is keen to form some sort of agreement with regards to the Baron though. Oh, and I'd like a receipt for the deposit please."

Riblitz sighed and scribbled a few notes on a nearby piece of paper. "There you are."

"Thank you. Would you like to show me outside?"

"What? Oh…right. This way please."

As the door to the street opened Havelock noticed the bearded man from the museum watching them. He turned back to the town Mayor and shook him by the hand. "I'm so pleased we could come to an understanding, Mr Riblitz," he said. "I shall inform her ladyship of the good news immediately."

"Er…good."

"We shall look forward to your visit tomorrow night and the completion of our arrangement. Good day." Havelock bowed slightly and looked over the receipt carefully with a smile and carefully folded it up, placing it in his pocket as Igor parked the carriage a few feet away.

"Did you achieve thuctheth, thur?"

Havelock studied the angry expression of the bearded man in the reflection of the carriage windows. "Yes, Igor. I rather think I did."

The coffin lid swung open.

"Good evening."

Margolotta turned to Havelock and gave him a kiss. "Good evening, yourself. How vas your day?"

Havelock shrugged noncommittally. "Not too bad."

"Vot did you do? Anything interesting?"

"Not really. I went into town, had a chat with the Mayor. Nothing too exciting."

Margolotta climbed out of the coffin. "You talked to the Mayor?"

"Yes; I wanted to buy you a present," Havelock replied. "You like cuckoo clocks, don't you?"

Margolotta smiled. "A clock? You do know that jewellery is more traditional, don't you?"

Havelock shrugged again. "I like to be different."

"So I've noticed. Vot made you vant to buy me a clock of all things?"

"Well, admittedly it wasn't so much the clock that was the attraction," said Havelock carefully. "It was the gift with purchase that I was interested in."

"Vhich vas?"

"I've got you your human support."

"_Vot_?!" Margolotta glared at him, her eyes burning red for a second. "I already told you no, Havelock! I do _not_ deal vith humans!"

He held up his hands quickly in a calming gesture. "And you won't have to, honestly. Perhaps I should explain."

"Please do," said Margolotta coldly.

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "As you know the werewolves are still watching the castle, right?"

"Yes, and?"

"Well, I thought that if I were to leave the castle and travel into town that they would follow me and they did. Before I left Ankh-Morpork my aunt gave me a book on Uberwald and it said that Bonk had a clock museum there--"

"Havelock, get to the point."

"I'm trying to—but it also said that the best clock was in the mayor's house. So I went to the museum, expressed an interest in the clock--"

"And bought it."

"Yes." Havelock sighed. "Please stop interrupting, Margolotta. It'll take twice as long to explain if you do."

"Fine. Continue."

"As I was saying, I bought it, for rather an exorbitant amount for money as it turned out, but was able to structure the conversation in a way at the end so that it would appear that I'd gone there to reach some kind of accord on your behalf. All of that part was witnessed by who I assume was the Baron--"

"Tall man vith a large beard?" asked Margolotta. Havelock nodded. "Yes, that vas him."

"Good. Anyway, the clock is being delivered tomorrow night by the Mayor himself; I've already said that Igor will go to the town with the carriage to facilitate its delivery."

"But how does that mean I've got his support?"

"It doesn't, but it looks like you do."

Margolotta frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."

"No? Okay, well allow me to explain further then. You've already visited the Low King and spent some time in a meeting with him. The werewolves know this and it worried them because the Baroness showed up when you came out. Then I went to the town and had a private meeting with the town Mayor, appeared to come to some sort of agreement with him and he will be coming here tomorrow night in your carriage. The werewolves also know this. And as far as they will be concerned it will look as if you are reaching some kind of agreement with both groups."

"But--"

"Let me finish, please." Havelock began pacing up and down the length of the crypt. "If the Baron or his wife go to either the Low King or the Mayor and ask them if there is an agreement, both of them will of course deny it, because, well, there _is_ no agreement. Or they will say there is one, for their own reasons. However, the more they deny it, the more the werewolves will believe that they are lying because people, no matter what their shape may be, are naturally suspicious. Now, I'm assuming that it would only take a matter of days or hours to reopen the silver mines closed at the Diet of Bugs, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Capital. So with this in mind the werewolves will be hesitant to attack the dwarfs and force them into compliance. So, they will either attack the Mayor tomorrow night, or attempt to force him to comply with their wishes some time soon. If they do, and he does, it shouldn't matter too much; the mere fact that the Baron has pursued the Mayor in such a manner will make you seem all the more agreeable to the Low King. And in time, the Mayor will turn to you as well. All you will need is do then is smile politely, try not to eat anyone too important and they should take care of the werewolves for you." Havelock turned to her with a smile. "So what do you think?"

"You really think you can achieve all that vith two meetings?"

"Well, no," admitted Havelock. "There is something you will need to do tonight."

"Vhich is vot?"

"I need you to go and see the Low King again."

Margolotta frowned. "But vot if he von't see me?"

"He will, trust me," said Havelock. "He'll want to find out what the Mayor and I were talking about."

"And wot should I tell him?"

"Tell him the truth. Tell him that I went to the town to buy you a present and the Baron followed me there. You should also mention that the werewolves are currently stationed around the castle, it will make them seem more aggressive."

"Ah. So should I still pursue the agreement?" asked Margolotta. "He didn't seem that interested before."

"And he probably still won't. But that will come later, for now you simply have to be seen going to talk to him. The trick is not make friends here, Margolotta, but to get the Baron to make enemies."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

"Yes, something like that." Havelock stopped pacing and smiled. "And with any luck the Baron should be so nervous of his position soon that my companions should be able to leave without incident."

"Good." Margolotta matched his smile. "I'd better go and get ready for my meeting vith the Low King." She gave him another kiss. "Thank you for this."

"I'm merely fulfilling my end of the bargain, my lady," said Havelock. "There's no need to thank me."

Margolotta looked up at him. "No, I suppose there isn't," she said slowly. "Not if this is just a business arrangement."

Havelock sighed, "I didn't mean it like that…"

"But that is how it sounded."

"I know and I'm sorry." Havelock frowned slightly. "It's just that this is a dangerous game we're playing here and if we take just one wrong step then we'll both end up dead. I just find it easier to deal with the situation unemotionally as it were. I hope you can understand."

"Vell that depends on exactly vhich situation you're referring to," snapped Margolotta. "Do you mean your little mind games vith them, or your mind games vith me?"

"What mind games? I haven't been --"

"Then vhy do you keep trying to change me?"

"Because I'm trying to keep you alive!" He sighed. "Or unalive, whichever is the correct term. I'm just trying to help you," he added quietly.

"Are you doing it because you care about me?"

"Obviously, I…" Havelock sighed again. "I don't feel comfortable talking about this, Margolotta."

"Vhy not?"

"I just don't. Look, I do care about you, but I don't want to have to talk about it because it makes me uncomfortable. Could you please just accept that?"

Margolotta stared at him for a moment before smiling. "As you vish. Vill you accompany me on my meeting? I'd like you to give me a few more pointers on vot to say to the Low King."

"Of course." They began to make their way up to the main body of the castle.

"Havelock?"

"Yes, Margolotta?"

"I love you too."


	11. Chapter 11

"I'm not sure I understand."

Margolotta gave Serafine an exasperated look. "Vould you like me to explain all of this to you again? I can speak even slower if you're having trouble keeping up."

Serafine bared her teeth at the vampire and growled.

Guye von Uberwald cleared his throat noisily. "It's not the practicalities we're having problems with, Margolotta; its understanding your motivation."

Margolotta shrugged. "I simply vant to make sure they get out of Ubervald safely."

"Yes, but _why_?"

Serafine smiled nastily. "She's probably promised her pet she won't hurt any of his friends. Isn't that right, Havelock?"

Havelock raised an eyebrow. "Lady Margolotta and I have come to an agreement regarding my companions, yes."

"So you're allowing yourself to be bossed about by a _human_ of all things, Margolotta?"

Margolotta sighed. "Havelock does not tell me vot to do; this is something ve have both decided is best for all concerned."

"I'd hardly consider it that as far as _we're_ concerned," said Guye tetchily. "In fact, we'd much prefer it if you would just kick out your little houseguests and let us finish our hunt."

"Yes, vell that's simply not going to happen. My guests vill leave vunce I am sure that they vill be safe and not before."

Guye leaned back in his chair and stared at her. ""So let me be sure I understand the situation; _we_ find the travellers, _we_ crash their coach and _you_ save them, let them stay here without harming a single one and now you want us to stay away from them once they've left here." He paused. "Are you sure you're still a vampire?"

"Guye!"

The male werewolf gave his wife a grin. "I'm just asking, dear; wouldn't you rather know now if Margolotta has joined that weird vampire cult over in Hochsommer-Wurdig?"

Serafine giggled. "What a stupid idea that is; vampires pretending not to be vampires...we'll be getting vegetarian werewolves next!"

"The problem with your proposal, Margolotta, is that you have no leverage; you have nothing we want," he smiled. "…apart from your guests."

"Actually," Havelock said as he returned the smile. "I think you'll find Lady Margolotta has quite a bit of leverage. If you refuse her proposal and attack my companions as they leave the castle she will be forced to report the matter to the Low King."

Serafine and Guye exchanged a look. "Why would he care about a group of humans?" asked Guye.

"Of, he von't," said Margolotta. "But I dare say he _vill_ be interested in yet another aggressive act perpetrated by yourselves against someone already stated to be under protection."

Serafine snorted. "You're basing an awful lot on two meetings, Margolotta."

"You think so? I'd have thought it vould depend on exactly vot vas discussed at the meetings."

"Such as? I hardly thought you the type to be interested in mining."

"It depends on vot is being mined. For example, silver mines interest me a great deal. They seemed to interest the King a great deal too, but of course, he did only say they vould be reopened if he had sufficient motive…" Margolotta left the sentence hanging in the air, smiling at the worried faces of the werewolves.

Serafine and Guye exchanged another look. "Well…perhaps we could come to some sort of agreement…" said Guye slowly. "…maybe we could have the next group of tourists?"

Margolotta smiled. "Maybe. So is that settled then?"

The werewolves nodded miserably.

* * *

Havelock spent the next few days teaching Margolotta almost everything else she would need to know to rule Uberwald, as he'd agreed. He even managed to persuade her to try the cow's blood again, no mean feat in itself, especially as she patently didn't want to; she didn't say much about it but he could tell she disliked it intensely from the way she would grimace at the glass when she thought he wasn't looking.

He told the others that he wouldn't be returning to Ankh-Morpork with them after all. They'd expressed muted regret but looking at their eyes as their mouths spouted insincere words, he saw nothing but relief there. It didn't bother him, although he supposed it should; after all, from their perspective they were leaving him with a deadly vampire, yet none of them cared to do anything to dissuade him. But he knew this was what he wanted.

It was strange really; all his life he'd never thought of much else but the city. Ever since his father's death Ankh-Morpork had been his only concern, he'd even planned on becoming Patrician one day, but now here with Margolotta all that seemed to just fall away.

She nudged him slightly with her elbow. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Staring at the vall vith that goofy smile on your face," said Margolotta. "Vot are you thinking about?"

"You," Havelock replied. "Well, you and Ankh-Morpork really."

Margolotta smiled. "You think about your city a lot, don't you?"

"Someone has to." He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. "Have you ever been there?"

"No."

"You should visit it one day, I think you'd like it. Ankh-Morpork has such potential; in the right hands it really could work."

"Have you ever thought about ruling it vun day?"

"No," he lied. He shifted in his seat. "Has there been any news from the city?"

She smiled again. "I knew you'd ask that. The Patrician has appointed a new city councillor."

"Who?"

"His horse."

Havelock opened and shut his mouth a few times as questions flooded his mind. Finally, one escaped. "_Why_?"

Margolotta shrugged. "Because he's insane? And apparently he's been given a new nickname."

"Which is?"

"Psychoneurotic Lord Snapcase."

Havelock sighed. "And I thought it was bad enough when they started calling him Mad Lord Snapcase."

"Evidently he's decided to step up his game."

"And while he sits in his office and gibbers like a madman, the city suffers," Havelock sighed again. "Something really ought to be done…but unfortunately Ankh-Morpork has only just begun to recover from the Revolution."

"Yes, I remember you telling me," said Margolotta. "Havelock, may I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything, you know that."

"How long are you planning to stay here?"

Havelock smiled. "Trying to get rid of me?"

She swatted his stomach playfully. "Don't be silly, I love having you here. I'm just vondering how long I get to enjoy you, that's all."

"Well, I _was_ planning on staying here for a while," he coughed nervously. "…if you want me to, of course."

"As if you vould even have to ask," she looked up at him. "So ve're talking about months…or years?"

"I'm not sure. Why?"

"Vell, it's such a shame that human life spans are so short; I mean, you're nineteen now, in sixty years you'll probably be dead," she sighed.

Havelock frowned. "Your point is…?"

"I vas just thinking that if you vere going to be staying here anyvay…have you ever thought about becoming a vampire?"

Havelock froze. "What?"

She sat up and looked at him, her eyes shining. "It'd make sense, don't you think? You'd be faster, stronger, immortal…you could really experience life--"

"By _dying_?"

Margolotta chuckled. "You vouldn't be dying; you'd be reborn. Think of vot you could accomplish vith so much longer to live." She placed a hand on his chest and leaned forward, whispering seductively, "Vun little bite and ve could be together forever…"

Havelock leaned away. "One little bite would be one too many, my lady."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're refusing me?"

"I'm not refusing you, Margolotta, I'm respectfully declining. There is a difference."

"Not to me there isn't." She stood up in one fluid motion and turned to face him. "So you'd rather be…_this_?" She furiously waved her hand in his direction. "Veak and helpless?"

Havelock raised an eyebrow. "I'd hardly consider myself helpless, Margolotta. Remember on our first night here I--"

"I could have killed you at any time I vanted, you stupid child!"

Suddenly the temperature in the room dropped. "_Child_?" Havelock stood up and glared at her. "I allowed you to call me that the first time, my lady, simply because I wished to incur your goodwill towards me and my companions; you do _not_ get to call me that again."

"How dare you talk to me in that vay? I offer you eternal life and you throw it back in my face!"

Havelock eyes narrowed. "I didn't do anything of the sort, Margolotta; just because I refuse to bend myself to your will--"

"No instead, you bend to theirs," she pointed in the direction of the drawing room, where he could hear his companions laughing and joking. "You refuse to see out of their small-minded, petty little vorld; you're no better than them."

"Well, if that's what you think, maybe I should leave with them tomorrow after all."

"Maybe you should."

Havelock glared at her for a few moments, before turning and storming out the door.

Margolotta sat down heavily in the chair. The stupid boy didn't know what he was giving up! She bit her lip, wondering whether she should go after him or not. _No_, she thought. _It's vot he vants you to do; he's just trying to pull your strings like he pulls theirs_. She looked up as Ludorum and Downey half-fell out of the drawing room, laughing uproariously at some unknown joke. They had obviously decided to celebrate their leaving tomorrow by emptying her liquor cabinet.

Margolotta smiled; she couldn't control Havelock's actions, she knew that. But maybe she could persuade him to join her by showing him what true power was...


End file.
